


The Fiery Love Chronicles

by MisguidedFeelingsofaDreamWeaver30



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-10-22 05:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17656985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisguidedFeelingsofaDreamWeaver30/pseuds/MisguidedFeelingsofaDreamWeaver30
Summary: One shots and headcanons with Warren Peace.





	1. Dating Warren Peace Would Include...

  * Being friends first
  * Little PDA
    * But when it’s just the two of you, he’s very affectionate. Turns out, he’s a big fan of cuddling. 
  * Special smiles just for you
  * Training fights
    * He’s really proud of you whenever you beat him. 
  * Lots and lots of banter
  * Reminding him he is not his dad.
  * Saving the world together when you guys graduate
    * Flirting while you’re at it 
  * Being there for him no matter what anyone says or thinks.




	2. Befriending Warren Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take a risk and befriend the school's resident 'villain'.

“Don’t you know who I am?” He asked you in a threatening tone.

“Well, your name is Warren Peace. Your father is the supervillain Baron Battle and…I’d say more but I don’t want you to be angry with me,” you told him.

His eyes widened just a fraction. “And yet you still sit with me? Why?”

You held his gaze, not wanting to let those flickering deep dark orbs get to you. “Because you need a friend,” you told him truthfully.

“And what makes you think that?” He asked.

“Are you going to barbecue my face if I tell you?” You didn’t want to get hurt just because you told him something you saw.

“I might not,” he told you curtly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, one, you’re all by yourself. Two, everyone is either scared of you or wanting to take advantage of you. Three, you may be intimidating, but I also think you’re kind of lonely,” you told him, ticking off the reasons on your fingers.

You could’ve sworn his hands tightened at your statement, but his eyes betrayed his surprise and, dare you say it, vulnerability. You waited for him to say something, wondering what his response would be.

After holding your breath and watching him for some kind of answer, he said, “Okay, I’ll bite.”

You held out your hand for him to shake. “But—“ that one word stopped you short, “—no ulterior motives?”

“No ulterior motives,” you said, your eyes never wavering from his. He slipped his hand into yours and you guys shook on it.


	3. Going Down in Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Warren Peace imagine where he gets nervous around the reader, resulting in…well…you’ll just have to read to find out.

Warren fiddles with the tux, taking one last look in the mirror before heading to school for the dance. He doesn’t know why he took more care in his appearance than usual, or why he actually bothered to wear a tux at all. 

He knows it wasn’t for hippie Layla. A possible reason crosses his mind and his cheeks involuntarily heat up. Literally.

He growls and pats the flames down. He takes one last look in the mirror before shouting a quick goodbye to his mom and heading off to Sky High. 

When he gets there, he immediately seeks out his “date”. He spots Layla, sticking out like a sore thumb because of her green dress.

He heads over to meet her, tries to start a conversation and is instead offered a cheese cube. All the while, his eyes scan the area, discreetly looking for a certain person. 

Then he sees you and his heart stops. He’s always known you to be in a shirt and sweats with the occasional hoodie. It’s different seeing you in a dress. Especially one that somehow makes you glow like a candle…

A small squeak from Layla brings him back to reality and he sees that his cheese cube is currently being barbecued. By a flame he didn’t even conjure. His eyes widen in surprise and he tries to put it out but to no avail. When he sees you coming his way, he immediately dumps his finger in a punch cup that happens to be Ethan’s. 

He’s about to protest but one look from Warren and he leaves it be. “You clean up nicely, Peace,” a voice says and he turns to see you giving him a smile that’s somewhere between smirking and shy. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself Y/L/N,” he says casually, but the appreciative gleam in his eye and the slight upturn of his lips signal that the compliment goes deeper than that. 

You bite your lip before giving him a grin that causes something warm to run up and down his arm. 

You wrinkle your nose. “Is that smoke I smell?” 

His eyes widen slightly in panic before he flicks his fingers, trying to extinguish the flame. 

“It’s probably nothing,” Layla chimes in, shocking you two momentarily. While you’re not looking, she holds up a cup full of punch. Warren throws her a grateful nod before extinguishing his flame. 


	4. You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warren Peace x Reader; Based on an anon request asking for Warren Peace and the reader as childhood friends that become lovers.

For as long as you remember, he was always there. The boy with black hair shot through with red and brown eyes that reflected the flames he wielded. 

You don’t remember a time when he hadn’t been there. Ever since his father, Baron Battle forged an alliance with your father, F/N, he had become a part of your life. 

The memories that come to your mind of your early encounters would be you peeking cautiously from your spot by the window, watching the little boy play with his mother, who was a fire wielder herself. You watched in fascination as his mother would conjure flames of different colours, which he would cup in the palm of his hand. 

One day, his mother pointed you out from the window. You ducked behind the curtains, shocked you had been caught. A few moments after that, the door had opened. You turned around to see the boy. 

“Do you want to join us?” he asked. Even then, he was blunt and a person of few words. You nodded, and both of you went outside. 

And that had been the start of your friendship. 

* * *

Warren walks out of detention, hand clenched around his bag at the memory of being stuck with Stronghold for an hour. Thankfully, the little runt kept his mouth shut most of the time. A few questions slipped through the cracks, including The Question. 

He exits the school, his eyes scanning over the few stragglers that are left. Then, his eyes land on someone and the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. 

“Decided to stick around?” he asked as he approached you. 

“Didn’t want to miss the great Warren Peace getting out of his first detention.” You tell him, falling into step with him. 

“Isn’t Mom a little worried you aren’t home yet?” He asked. Ms Peace had taken you in when both yours and Warren’s dads had been arrested. 

“Hestia knows where I am. I gave her a call the minute class ended.” 

“Of course you did Goody Two Shoes,” he says teasingly, bumping your shoulder. 

“At least it keeps me from detention,” you retort. You two climb aboard the school bus. As soon as it is up in the air, you start up the conversation once more. 

“So, what was it like being in detention with Stronghold?” 

Warren frowns a little. “Not something I want to repeat,” he says. 

“Why? He asked too many questions?” 

“It was the fact he even tried to talk to me that bothers me,” he tells you. “He even asked The Question.” 

You groan at this, but secretly you scrunch your toes in anticipation. “And what was the answer?” 

“Same as it always is. No, you and I are not dating,” Warren replies. He leans back in the chair as he says so. 

You nod at that, but you unclench your toes, trying not to let the answer get to you. The truth is, you had developed a crush on him over the years. Sometimes, you want to bang your head against how cliched this was: a girl in love with her best guy friend. 

But, you two had always had each others’ backs. You both had been through a lot together. Not only that but when you two were around each other, you didn’t have to worry about all the judgmental stares and whispers. All that mattered is that you were with someone who knew everything about you but cared about you still. 

Soon, you two arrive at the house. Noticing the lights are off, you take out your keys and unlock the door. You reach out to flick the light switch, only for nothing to happen.You try it a few more times, but nothing happens. 

“Power’s out again,” you tell Warren. “Could you-” 

Warren opens his hand, creating a fireball. He holds it a bit higher, illuminating the house. He places a hand on your waist, keeping you steady and causing your cheeks to heat up. 

You two make your way towards the fridge, finding a note from Warren’s mom that she is working late tonight. You shrug, knowing this to occur often. “Any leftovers?” 

“I think we got some from the Paper Lantern,” Warren replies. You open the door to the fridge. You quickly spot the paper box, taking them out and placing them on the table. 

You two then rummage through drawers, finding one thick candle and one strawberry scented candle. You place these ones on the table, which Warren lights up.  You then get some plates, which you dump the food on. Warren heats the food, and then, you guys sit down to eat. 

As you eat, you find yourself stealing glances at Warren. You are very tempted to laugh at the situation: dinner, candlelight, the guy you had feelings for. It seemed perfect, had it not been something that happened due to power failure. 

_Damn, the firelight really brings out the warmth in his brown eyes. How is it he looks so good in long hair? I like how it frames his face. What would it feel like for that to slip through my fingers?_

Your eyes slip to his lips. Is it just you or does the candlelight make his lips oh-so-tempting…

“Y/N?” You snap up to see Warren looking at you with concern. “You…okay?” 

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m cool. So cool,” you ramble before proceeding to finish your food as fast as you can. Warren raises an eyebrow at your behaviour. He continues to eat his food but keeps an eye on you. 

After a few minutes of awkward silence, he brings it up again. “Are you sure you’re alright?” 

You look up at him. “What makes you think I’m not?” 

He just merely raises an eyebrow at you. Usually, that was the gesture for you to cave and spill your guts but you are determined that you don’t let your secret slip. 

“You’re not looking at me,” he states bluntly. 

“And that tells you I’m not alright?” You snap back. His eyes widen just a bit at that.

“Yes. Because I know you, Y/N.” He frowns when a thought occurs to him. “Did-did I do something to upset you?” 

You look up at him, and though his face remains cool and detached, you can see it in his eyes that he’s afraid. He’s always been afraid of doing something to upset you or hurt you in any way. 

You place your hand on him. “Warren, I promise you, that whatever’s bothering me is not because you upset me.” You look him straight in the eyes at this. “I promise,”  you repeat emphatically. 

He gives you a small smile at that, one that only you and his mom get to see. He makes no move to remove his hand from under yours. In fact, he gently slides his hand and turns it over, so that your hands are palm to palm. Slowly, you slide your fingers into his. You hesitate, thinking that he’ll want you to stop, but he just slips his fingers around yours. 

His hands are warm, but not like a blazing furnace. In fact, it’s the kind of warmth that soothes you after a long winter’s day. Your eyes slide up from your intertwined hands to his eyes. 

Many people have known fire to be destructive, but you know how warm it can be and of how it can be such a soothing sight. That is what you see in his dark brown orbs. Your gaze then moves to his lips once more, and you feel a fire of your own sweep up in your belly. 

You tentatively lean forward, looking to see if he wants you to stop. But he doesn’t. If anything, he starts to lean in as well. And with that, your lips met halfway. 

His hair tickles your cheek, so you reach up and gently thread your fingers through it. He raises his hand to cup your cheek, holding you gently as he continues to touch his lips to yours. 

Soon, the need for oxygen becomes too much and so, you two break apart. For a minute, there is nothing said between you two. 

“Can we change that answer?” you whisper. 

“What answer?” he asks. 

“To the Question.” You look into his eyes. “Would you be willing to change it?” 

He gives you a little smirk before giving you a soft, chaste peck. “Yes.” 


End file.
